


Tulips

by Amiche



Category: ACCA13区監察課 | ACCA 13-ku Kansatsuka
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Some angst, and lots of cliché
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 13:53:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9444086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amiche/pseuds/Amiche
Summary: 'Cause you're the one I love.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I love Nean and writing sappy things
> 
> Also, this song exists: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v04vS71OG5M  
> And this art: https://goo.gl/yoExtu
> 
> [an obligatory English-is-not-my-first-language warning goes here]

Jean is lying on his back on an old, flimsy hotel bed, hands still holding his coat he hasn't had the energy to hang. He stares at the ceiling, not really thinking about anything. 

Today's visit to the local branch's office has been particularly tiring. Jean didn't check the time before collapsing into bed but he's pretty sure it's late. The day is dying out, ready to be replaced with another, no less tiring one. 

The room is silent. Jean wallows in it for a while, appreciating the change after having to talk to so many employees in just one day. This kind of solitude has always been enjoyable for him. Even more so supplemented with some good quality tobacco.

He gets up from the bed, ready to go out to the balcony, spend some time observing whatever is there in front of the hotel and taste some cold air again. He's fishing his lighter out of the coat's pocket when the quiet tranquility of the room is discontinued by a subtle, cautious knock on the door. 

'Jean,' he hears Nino's voice from the opposite side of the door. 'You still awake?'

Jean reaches to open the door without a second thought. Nino smiles widely, hands him a rather heavy paper bag he was holding and makes his way inside.

'Do you mind keeping me company for a while? Didn't feel like sleeping early today.'

Jean contemplates the suggestion. He has to wake up early tomorrow, but never once in his life had he had the guts to say 'no' to Nino, be it about drinking alcohol or something else.

Speaking of alcohol...

'Is it what I think it is?' Jean asks, peeking into the paper bag. 

'I passed that famous beer shop on my way here,' Nino nods. 

'You didn't have to get me anything,' Jean sighs, albeit grateful. He appreciates the gesture, but The Next Morning Jean certainly won't.

'It's nothing much,' his friend dismisses. 'But if you don't feel like it, we can hang out another day. Fine by me.'

'I don't mind. Just make sure I wake up in time for the inspection tomorrow...'

'Will do!' Nino smirks, visibly amused by the lack of objections. 

Jean puts the bag down on the desk and heads to the balcony. Nino follows him. 

He lights a cigarette, leans on the rusty balcony rail and looks down.

The street is now dark and empty, the only source of warm, yellow light coming from a little flower shop on the opposite side of the hotel. A middle-aged man in an apron is busy moving flower-filled buckets near the entrance inside, preparing to close for the night.

They stand on the balcony in comfortable silence - something they're pretty much used to.

Jean exhales another cloud of smoke into the chilly night air and shivers involuntarily. He didn't wear his coat, having decided it's not worth the trouble just for a short smoke. But now the cold found its way through the thin fabric of his white uniform shirt, clutched onto the bare skin of his face, hands and exposed collarbones. 

He doesn't really mind it. It's refreshing and he's starting to feel a little bit less tired, his thoughts being washed away by a quiet bliss of an early spring evening.

Nino takes off his jacket and offers it to him in a silent gesture. Jean shakes his head. 

The flower shop man below them stops in front of a bucket full of yellow tulips and frowns at something. He then leans in closer, picks a few flowers out of the bucket and throws them into the trash can by the corner of the shop.

Nino doesn't put the jacket back on. 

Jean ashes his cigarette. It glimmers in the dark, and he pauses before putting it back between his lips.

'Say, Nino,' he muses, turning to his friend. 'Why do you never ask for anything from me?'

'Why would I?' Nino sounds confused.

'You always help me out,' Jean turns his gaze back to the flower shop owner, now re-arranging a heap of daisies so it would look neater, 'but never ask for anything in return. Is there something you would like me to do for you?'

Nino goes silent for a few moments before replying, 'Is this a legit question?'

'Of course.' Jean smiles and stubs out a cigarette on the rail before facing Nino again. 

Nino looks... lost. Like if Jean just gave him a task he's incapable of handling, like if it's him who's being asked to do something instead.

He collects himself quickly, though, before Jean starts seriously worrying if there was something wrong with his question. Nino gives him a faint smile and heads back into the room, waits until they are inside again before replying, 'I'll have to think about it.'

'Take your time.' 

Nino throws his Jacket next to Jean's abandoned coat, walks over to the desk, fishes out a handy beer bottle opener and opens the ones he brought with him. 

'Do you always carry it around?' Jean asks, curious, when Nino hands him a bottle.

'I carry a lot of stuff. The camera is already heavy, so might as well stuff my pockets with useful things.'

'Useful, right,' Jean laughs. Nino watches him take a sip and grins in reply, 

'I have to be ready to get you drunk anywhere, anytime.' 

They spend some time chatting lazily about Jean's work and the things they both noticed in the city. Jean soon gets back to lying on his back on the bed, having finished his beer and feeling the alcohol creep up to his reddening cheeks.

'Have you thought of anything?' he asks, sleepy, when Nino puts down his second bottle. 

Nino stands up from his chair and stretches with pleasure. 'About?'

'... What do you want me to do.' Jean mumbles, trying hard not to fall asleep.

There's a quiet 'oh', followed by rather long silence, and then Jean's being pulled up to his feet and out of his slumber.

'Dance with me,' Nino says. He sounds serious.

'What?' Jean blinks at him, still not fully grasping the idea. 

'Come on,' Nino gently pushes him towards the center of the room. 'Just to unwind a little. I always wanted to do something like this.'

'But we don't even have any music...' 

'Remember when we in high school we once wandered off to the other side of the city and found that old little record shop?' Nino asks, now facing him.

'It was so tiny, and you just couldn't stop talking about all those bands I didn't even know existed,' Jean smiles, fond of the memory.

'Remember what song was playing in the shop when we got there? You said you liked it a lot.'

The question catches Jean off-guard. 'You even remember such details?'

Nino doesn't give him a reply, but something in his face changes. Jean can't quite put a name to it but for a second he thinks he sees a flash of something sorrowful in Nino's eyes.

Nino smiles at him, 'It was a jazz one. Just think of any jazz song you know now, play it in your head. Imagine you're listening to it.'

Jean is genuinely confused and doesn't even have the time to come up with a melody before Nino grabs his waist, takes his left hand in his and stretches their arms out as if they were waltzing. Jean automatically puts his second hand on Nino's shoulder. 

It feels weird. They're so stiff and clumsy, standing closer to each other than they ever did.  
'Do you even know how to dance?' Jean asks, having to tilt his head a little because Nino is taller.

'What does it matter?' Nino gives him a smirk. 'Just follow me.'

He makes one step back, then one step to the right, tugging Jean along. 

'You're way too dense,' he says after a few more steps. 'Relax, will you?'

He starts humming quietly to himself, looking somewhere over Jean's shoulder. Jean tries to remember the dancing scenes from the old movies he saw throughout his life, but it's no use, so he just closes his eyes and lets Nino take the lead.

Naturally, he steps on his foot just a few moments later.

'Sorry,' he mutters, but Nino just laughs and shakes his head a little, obviously not affected by it.

He shifts his gaze to look at Jean again and their eyes meet. Nino's smile falters slowly, changing into a calm, affectionate expression on his face. 

It's the one he always has when watching Jean but this time, seeing it in such close proximity, it feels different. Jean squeezes Nino's hand instinctively, overwhelmed by a sudden desire to express how grateful he is that Nino is his friend.

They make a few more steps until their movements start to feel a bit more confident. It probably looks weird - two grown, moderately tipsy men waltzing in silence of a cramped, dusty hotel room - but Jean doesn't really care. He enjoys being close to Nino, feeling the heat his body radiates even through the clothes, moving together in sync.

He gasps in surprise when Nino suddenly spins him full circle in an almost graceful manner. 

'Nino!..' he starts, bewildered, but Nino just bursts out laughing, definitely amused by his reaction.

Jean can't help but join him. The entire thing is ridiculous, _they_ are ridiculous. But they are ridiculous together, and it's about the biggest amount of fun Jean's had since God knows when. 

They pick up the pace, pretending they know what they're doing, making more spins and turns and laughing at their own clumsiness. Jean's heart is at ease. He's high on beer, excitement and the sound of Nino's laugh, Nino himself, his presence filling the gray emptiness of his hotel room and overturning his day, making it worth living. 

 

They stop eventually, chuckling quietly, embarrassed by their improv performance for two. Nino's left hand, having made its way onto Jean's lower back, lingers there for a few more moments. Jean instantly misses its warmth when Nino finally separates himself from him. 

'Thank you,' Nino smiles at him, looking content, 'for playing along'. 

'No, I...' Jean isn't even sure of what he is trying to say, but the word _play_ sounds horribly wrong for some reason and he knows he wants to eliminate the effect it's left after escaping Nino's lips. 

Nino doesn't wait for him to finish the sentence, turning his gaze to a clock on the wall. 

'I guess I've already occupied enough of your time today,' he says. 'Your work schedule is pretty strict, better try and get at least some proper sleep while you can.'

'Right,' Jean echoes, feeling uneasy. The reality starts dawning on him again, reminding him of everything he has to face in the morning. A hangover, possibly accompanied by headache. A boring, exhausting job. Nino's absence. 

The last thought appalls him so much, he realizes, he isn't sure he'll be able to put up with it at all. Not now. 

Nino is about to make his way towards the bed to pick up his jacket when Jean silently catches him by the elbow.

Nino raises an eyebrow at him, probably assuming it's just the alcohol making him act up again. And maybe it is. But before Jean knows it, he's already reaching up, wrapping his arms around Nino's neck, hugging him tight and holding him close. Closer than they've ever been before. 

Nino stiffens, but Jean doesn't let go. He closes his eyes and nuzzles his face into Nino's shoulder when he finally feels Nino hugging him back.

They stay like that, and Jean is glad Nino doesn't push him away because he is so not willing to move. He relaxes and allows himself to melt into Nino's embrace. It feels so nice and comfortable, so warm. It feels like home. _Nino_ feels like home. 

Jean can feel himself starting to drift off again. He loses track of the time and sighs, disappointed, when Nino gently untangles himself from him what feels like years later.

'Hey,' he says softly, still holding Jean by the waist. 'Don't fall asleep on me. You've got an actual bed there.'

Jean makes some sort of disapproving noise when Nino fully lets go of him and takes a step back.

'You're tired,' he states the obvious looking rather guilty. 'Go get your well-deserved rest.'

'I'll see you tomorrow?' Jean asks watching Nino put on his jacket. Something is off about the tone of Nino's voice, and Jean is already starting to regret being so selfish earlier. He couldn't really help it, though. His body acted on its own accord and in fact, he still doesn't want Nino to leave. 

Apparently, it's written all over his face, because Nino glances at him one more time before leaving and stops. An eternity passes before he slowly comes backs to where Jean is standing, cups his cheek and places a feather-light kiss on his forehead. 

'Go to sleep, Otus,' he whispers, before finally waving Jean goodbye for real and heading out the door. 

Jean stands in the middle of now suffocatingly empty room and basks in this new, unfamiliar feeling spreading somewhere inside his chest. He doesn't know what to call it, but it reminds him of yellow tulips and old jazz songs.

And alcohol has nothing to do with it.


End file.
